


Don't Read This

by CCsnow



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-07
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-07 04:43:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8783608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CCsnow/pseuds/CCsnow
Summary: (Sanvers AU - Alex & Emma style). Alex Danvers couldn't write her next novel because her thoughts are too fast for her hand to catch up in writing, so she hires stenographer Maggie Sawyer to help her story see its conclusion... Like the idea of an attractive stenographer staying at your place every day isn't a risky move for desperate writers.





	1. Chapter 1

**Don't Read This**

"What if you hadn't fallen in love with me?" Alex paced up and down her crappy apartment. Her thoughts were all mixed up. Her dry lips tightened. She must need a glass of water... or an electrolyte replacement.

"But I did." Maggie sat catatonic on Alex's couch. Her white shirt was sweating from the closed heat of the place.

Alex, still pre-occupied with what it seemed like insanity, kept mumbling. "What if you hadn't fallen in love with me?"

"BUT... I... DID!" Maggie yelled and sighed. "That's what Meredith says."

Alex rested her hands on her hips and looked at her sternly. "Axele asks 'But what if you hadn't fallen in love with me,' and all Meredith says back is 'But I did,' that's your biggest idea?"

Maggie raised her hands in surrender. "Well, it does put up good drama."

"I'm the writer here. I tell the story, you record it to paper."

Maggie positioned her fingers back on the keys of her Stenograph and recapped where they left off. "The kettle started to whistle but neither of them gave it attention. Axele bit her lip wondering how things went from sunflower-sunny to teacup-tense in just one week. For a second, there was nothing to be heard except the whistling kettle, then, with the spontaneity of her rampaged mind, Alex spoke, 'But what if you hadn't fallen in love with me?' There. What happens next?"

Alex sat beside her on the couch. She rested her head back and thought of the next sentences of her novel. Maggie listened and typed the words. It was tougher at the moment; Alex kept brushing off words and changing the thought every five seconds. Soon, Alex's voice came in spurts, then in faint spurts, until it was one sentence every ten minutes.

Maggie gently placed a hand on Alex's and rubbed it softly. "Alex? Are you napping? Or are you thinking?"

Alex groaned. "M'nap-thinking."

"We should just continue tomorrow." Maggie packed her Stenograph neatly into her bag. Alex begged her to stay and continue the story but she was shut down by the clear evidence that they were both tired from the day and a peaceful re-charge will boost both of them up respectfully tomorrow. So Maggie left. A cab fortunately drove by and picked her up. She sat in the car with silent, even breaths. She sighed. Being Alex Danver's stenographer was nowhere near her career map, and yet there she was - on her way home from what she called "work."

Two weeks ago, Maggie received an e-mail from what it seemed to be a representative from Luthor and Henshaw and Danvers Law Firm, informing her of their dire need of a stenographer who could work in flexible hours. So there she was, on a noble corporate pantsuit and pointy heels under her feet - taking a bus to National City to take on the gig. She got through the front doors of this grey building, up the elevator, and knocked at 1122C. She was expected at nine, but it was always a good impression to arrive earlier ahead, and that was exactly what she did. The door opened, and a tall short-haired woman in a plain black shirt, dark denim pants, and flip-flops, whose eyes blinked weakly and sluggishly, greeted Maggie Sawyer.

The whole job offer turned out to be a hoax... Not entirely a hoax, but it was fake in a lot of angles. There was no Luthor and Henshaw and Danvers Law Firm, there was only Unit 1122C of L-Corp Condominiums. There was no Attorney A. Danvers: National City School of Law graduate, only Alex Danvers: one-hit-wonder novelist. Maggie was about to storm out back to the elevator when the poor tall woman fainted right in front of her. Maggie had no choice but to drag her lifeless form back inside her unit. Alex's place was rather displeasing to her... to anyone, actually. Think of what the home of a stereotypical book character who does not have their shit together would look like - that's what Alex's unit looked like. Maggie was about to head to the kitchen to get her some water when she heard her beg for her to stay and be her almighty stenographer for this new story she was trying to create.

Upset with the fake-fainting, Maggie finally stormed out. Alex got up to her feet and followed her and babbled about her first published novel while Maggie impatiently waited for the elevator to ding at the eleventh floor. She watched her talk. Maggie didn't listen to her; she watched her, and damn, did she find her attractive. The uncombed short hair, the tall build, the toned arms, the bright eyes - Alex Danvers was a beautiful novelist. Maggie finally played along and ran her around the bush with flirty talk. It came to a point where she teased her of having the intent of taking advantage of her, only to have Alex take it a little too personally and walking out on her saying "You're not my type, FYI."

The elevator finally arrived and Maggie got in - unsure of whether or not she was relieved that she had offended Alex Danvers. The world must've been against her today when the chilly wind of November embraced her neck rather harshly. She had left scarf at Unit 1122C. It must've fallen off when she was dragging Alex's body in. Maggie thought of leaving it for good, but she crawled back into the elevator anyway. It was that climb back to the eleventh floor that started her gig being Alex's stenographer.

The fifteen days they have spent together had rather gone too fast for Maggie. She entered her own apartment and cleaned up ready for bed but all the time, it was either Alex's story or Alex's unruly place or Alex herself that Maggie was thinking about. She should stop. She only had three hours to spare for sleep before her alarm goes off signalling her to get ready for her part-time four-hour job at the minute law firm two blocks from her place.

* * *

 

Kara had not called all week. She still wasn't speaking to Alex after she gambled the money she lent her in a shadowy business venture she found online. She promised her she would pay every cent back but it didn't ease up the anger and the disappointment in Kara. Swell. That was a year ago, and not a cent was paid back. No wonder Kara had actually stopped dropping calls every now and then. This next novel was her key to fixing her relationship with Kara. All she needed to do was write it to its last punctuation and send it to Hank Henshaw - her publisher. He had always believed in her and her "wondrous" talent.

Three weeks ago she bumped into him on the way to the grocery store, and he accidentally mentioned about Kara leaving National City to seek green pastures in The Daily Planet. The crisis in Catco Worldwide Media had sent it tumbling on the rocks, and the recession was ugly. It wouldn't be long until Kara becomes collateral damage. It would therefore make sense why she was thinking of migrating out of the city to work for a media corporation that would feed her and pay the bills. Kara was Alex's only family and if returning the money would keep her grounded near her, Alex would move the heavens for it. The fund was Kara's supposed investment tool but when Alex begged for a loan to enter into business, Kara gave up her long-term savings and delayed her investment plans.

Hank had labeled Alex "magnificent but stubborn" on one of their coffee dates, and he was not wrong. Alex had not felt a muse alive to keep writing since the business debacle. She had not been productive for more than two years now. Kara's threat of leaving became her new deadline. Writers breathe on deadline. Alex was a writer and she found herself a deadline to fear and to please. So she sent that bogus e-mail to Margaret Sawyer, a name she once saw in Hank's contact notebook. It wasn't easy booking her hours, but she did manage to. When she came back for her scarf that morning, Maggie grabbed the copy of Alex's first novel and flipped it to the last page, reading the ending so she could decide if it was worth the read. She said it was, and it was the turning moment that coaxed her into agreeing to the gig.

Alex's eyes were usually not open until eight in the morning but today at seven, they were. She got up groggily and showered. Then she headed to the kitchen to brew coffee. She knew how Maggie always wanted to start the day with a good cup of coffee, so there Alex was, using exerted energy to make her a strong cup. But then, the wall clock on the floor chimed ten AM, and Maggie had not arrived yet. She was about to reach for her phone when the door burst open revealing Maggie - panting.

"Sorry, I forgot that it's Thursday. I'm not scheduled to come in at the firm." Maggie sat and rested.

"They must be surprised to see you there today, huh?" Alex teased. She only laughed. "I'll make you a fresh cup of hot coffee."

"No, it's cool!" Maggie replied, halting Alex. "You prepared it. I'll have it." She smiled and it was returned. Alex had always returned her smirks and her smiles - much to her happiness.

Truth be told, Alex didn't make morning coffees until two weeks ago. She didn't even own a coffee maker until two weeks ago. There had been some changes in her daily routine since she began the novel with Maggie. She was not just some stenographer. Maggie was a reader - a persnickety one. They had argued about what color Axele's hair was - being the main character of Alex's story. Maggie wouldn't settle for first impression of Meredith's character at the third chapter. She had called out Alex's persistence on Axele's unhealthy obsession with Lycia, the rich French woman that Axele worked for. Alex and Maggie didn't agree on many things, and while Alex kept on reminding her about how she was the writer and Maggie was only there to put it to paper, Maggie kept the criticisms coming.

Alex didn't have a lot of people in her life. These past three months, Alex had been living on what was left of her money from her first publication. The only human contact she would have were the delivery guy from the bakery across the street, or the landlord with the monthly envelope, or the three year old kid who lived down the hall who occasionally knocked on Alex's door and handed her candies. Maggie agreed to be her stenographer one day, and suddenly, she was all the interaction that she needed every day. Alex gets annoyed when her thoughts get disrupted, something like when Maggie speaks... especially when Maggie speaks. Alex, too, gets turned on with smart and opinionated conversations, something like when Maggie speaks... most especially when Maggie speaks.

She loved watching Maggie stare into nothingness while her fingers clicked on the keys of her Stenograph. She admired Maggie's sided smiles every time Alex described scenes between Meredith and Axele. This energy, Alex channeled it to progress her novel forward. This energy, Maggie Sawyer, was a lively spice that Alex had not experienced for a long time since her life turned sideways.

Alex sat on the couch beside Maggie and rested her head on her shoulder. "Lycia's grandmother dies and she finally gets the inheritance. This means she did not have to enter into a fixed marriage with Justin. No more money problems. Perfect for Axele to make her move and confess her feelings for Lycia."

Maggie typed in as Alex narrated. "Uh-uh. It's just the seventh chapter, Alex. What happens next?"

"I don't know."


	2. Part II

"You don't know? It's your story. How can you start writing something and not know how it ends?" Maggie got up and reached for the landline phone that hung on one of the pillars of Alex's apartment. "No dial tone?"

Alex scratched her head. "You have to support the wire at the base. It's a little loose."

Maggie did as instructed and had successfully connected to the line. Her stomach was grumbling so she ordered pizza. Pizza, because that was what Alex got every single time. Maggie didn't favor pizza that much, but apparently, Alex did, so pizza it was.

She sat back at the couch laying her head back at the down time of Alex's mind. "So Ax is pursuing Lizzie now, then?"

"Lycia. It's Lycia, not Lizzy."

Maggie groaned. "I told you it was a crappy name! It doesn't stick. The name makes her more uninteresting. Change it, Alex."

"To what?!"

"I don't know. You're the author."

Alex moved to open the glass doors to the veranda. Noon was approaching and she could feel the humidity calling out sweating. She let the outdoor wind enter and refresh them both. Indoor air circulation malfunctioned a week ago, and it since became one of the many uncanny features of Alex's unit. She sat across Maggie, arms folded, legs crossed. "Lucy," she said low, like it was forbidden, like it was dangerous to say. "Let's change her name to Lucy."

Maggie nodded. "Even better. Lucy it is." She grabbed a pen and wrote on a sheet of paper where she jotted down all that she thought of Alex's story along the way. Maggie was uncertain about working for a novelist - as she had never typed to follow a verbal story. Somewhere during their first week together, Maggie grew fascinated by her tour around Alex's mind. How the characters rose, how the words acted and described, what vibe the settings give... Maggie was pleased with receiving the product of Alex's creativity, and she couldn't wait to hear more.

The comedic story began rather simple. Ax, short for Axele, was introduced as a thirty year old American linguist who received an invitation from a rich French woman named Lucy to teach her kids English. Shortly after that, Ax was on board a train to St. Scotts - the small town Lucy and her kids were staying at for the six-week vacation in America. There, Ax befriended Justin Obentle, who was a native of St. Scotts and was feeling rather giddy to meet the woman he was fixed to wed... who turned out to be Lucy. Maggie Sawyer was quick to dismiss it as a future shelf-warmer but as Alex pieced out the fragments one by one, she was convinced otherwise.

There was a knock on the door which sent Alex sprinting to open it welcome for the delivery guy. She greeted him with enthusiasm and asked about his day - like she did every single time he came to deliver the pizza. Lunch time. Alex owned two slices beforehand and began to eat. Maggie watched her.

"So now that money can't force Lucy to wed Justin anymore, and that Ax was finally confessing her love, what happens next?"

Nothing. Alex was just chewing. It was like she didn't hear a single word from her. Eventually she finished her half of the pizza, while Maggie had not touched hers.

"You going to eat those?" Alex questioned - not that she intended to have them in case Maggie shook her head, but because she seemed hungrier than she was before the food arrived and now, she wasn't even seduced to a bite.

Maggie looked at her sternly. Alex stared back. Maggie wrinkled her nose looking at her. Alex furrowed her brows.

Maggie's lips sided to a small smile. Alex chuckled.

"What is it?" Alex found herself smiling - no, not smiling... grinning.

Maggie let herself grinned as well. "You just locked yourself to a corner, didn't you?"

"No, I didn't."

There it was: Alex's _I-am-lying_ face. Maggie recognized it quickly causing her to mock and laugh. "You resolved the plot conflicts by the seventh chapter and now you don't know how to proceed! You've locked yourself out of the story! Hah!"

Alex stood and paced around once more. "I did. oh god. I just got locked out. Shit."

"Look, babe, I'm fine here. I mean, I'm paid by the hour and for me, it's sort of good news that you're blocked momentarily, but come on, I don't want you to drain your future paycheck for when you send this to Henshaw. What's next?"

Alex ran a hand through her hair. "No, no. You don't get it. Art can't be rushed. Sometimes, it's there. Sometimes, it's not." She sat next to Maggie, who was finally eyeing her share of the pizza with intent.

"Maybe you could take the reader to see more of Meredith? She's the only character you have not described in full yet at this point." Maggie shrugged.

"Yes, Mer! Yes! I almost forgot." Alex greeted.

"So, who is Mer? What is she like?" Maggie gently picked up a large slice and took one small bite - later humming as she chewed. She was about to take another but something halted her. She laid the slice back down and picked the tomato slice from the pizza. Maggie began peeling a layer off of the tomato slice. Right then, she glanced at Alex - who was watching her with fascination... just as she expected.

"I don't like tomato skin," Maggie mumbled - almost like a soft whisper - apparently aware of her strange behavior.

Alex smiled. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "Now, Meredith, Lucy's American babysitter, was a silent dashing woman who could go from shying her dislike for tomato skin to wearing her heart on her sleeve in a blink of an eye."

Maggie deadpanned at her as she listened.

"What? I take some things from real life. All writers do." Alex gestured to the Stenograph cueing Maggie to drop the pizza, wipe the grease off her fingers and jot down the sentence about Mer.

Two hours later, Maggie had finally swiped the pizza box clean and the only progress they had walked through was giving a hundred word background on Mer's character - much to their disappointment. Alex's head had gone blocked before, and Maggie was able to knock her back to continue. Today was different. Alex had stalled with Mer, but the story dug stagnant to where they left off the previous night.

The afternoon sun embraced National City, and still, the story was asleep. Maggie stood, grabbed Alex's hand and brought her to stand at the veranda. Alex squinted at the brightness of the outdoors. Maggie instructed her to let the environment around her eat her. She told Alex to breathe in the warm air of the afternoon like it was her first sip of water after days in a desert. She told Alex to accept the noise of the city - all of it: the honks, the tire screeches, the public music, everything. Maggie explained how the world is at her disposal right now and the only way that Alex could drown in it is to close her eyes and accept what her other senses brought her. Alex couldn't. She was already drowning looking at the stenographer so she didn't feel the need to close her eyes and ask for more of the world. The way the orange rays touched Maggie's face from the side, the way her noir curls flew with the gentle wind and across her face, the way she tucked them behind her ears to keep them ruled... Alex was already feeling the block getting unblocked.

It was only two weeks and she had been like this toward Maggie. Could Maggie take a hint? She didn't know. Alex adored her company and that was enough for now. She reached for Maggie's hand and held it - lining traces on her skin with her thumb. Then she was grasping them firm.

"What are you doing?" Maggie tilted her head and smiled.

Looking at their clasped hands, Alex swallowed nervously, excitingly, "You said I should let the world drown me by focusing on my other senses, but I figured I could let it drown me deeper and faster if I relied on my senses all at once." Alex pulled her close and locked her in a soft embrace - burying her face in the crook of her neck. Mint shampoo. Sweat. Cherry perfume. The scent in Maggie's hair sent Alex spiraling down deeper. Maggie's idea of letting the world drown her was indeed working, for Alex was engulfed by everything at the moment.

"This book must be really important to you to go through lengths like this," Maggie whispered.

Alex heard it. No, she felt it. Her hands were firm around Maggie and the vibration of her voice amplified the experience. "I need it to get my sister back."

Maggie pulled out of the hug. "Your sister? You never mentioned a sister before. What's her name?"

"Kara. I heard she's moving to Metropolis for financial reasons. I don't want her to move away. I owe her a big sum of money and if I could pay it all back, she could continue with her investment plans and you know, not move to Metropolis." Alex leaned and watched the cars lined in traffic below her.

"She's lucky to have you, then."

Alex chuckled and slowly shook her head. "She's anything but lucky to have me. I've broken her trust multiple times. She's given me multiple chances, and I managed to turn them all down."She glanced at Maggie, who was admittedly hooked with curiosity. "The money I owe her? It's her life savings. She lent it to me because I begged her. I gambled it away in a poorly-constructed business initiative. That's how I know how I want all of this to end: back to the two of us, both of us past this," she gestured to herself and her unruly place, "hurdle."

They stood there in silence. Maggie found an open to hold Alex's hand again so she could tell her how everything would be alright, but the tall woman yanked away from her posture at a _'Eureka'_ moment.

"That's it!" Alex exclaimed - her eyes widening and her cheeks blushing. "The only way that the Ax's story could go on is if I bring back the hurdle."

"Meaning?" Maggie followed her back inside and positioned before her Stenograph.

"The grandmother lives."

Maggie shot her a you-are-insane look. "What?!"

"Lucy's grandmother arrives in St. Scotts all the way from France to meet the Obentle's as well. The telegram they received a week before was a misunderstanding - given that Lucy's grandmother was not fluent with the English language herself. The telegram read that 'she was gone,' and with the hospital visits lately before the trip, Lucy and the rest were in the perfect position to assume for the worst (or best - in Lucy's case). Ax met the old lady, and she could not feel more imprisoned by the turn of events. Lucy was almost hers."

Just when they both thought that they were progressing again, came a deafening dull in their hours. Alex would say a sentence or two. Maggie would comment randomly on the peculiarities of Alex's messy place. For the first half of the afternoon, Alex queried about Maggie's personal life. And for the latter half, Maggie dodged all diversionary queries about her own personal life. It was a game they played in circles.

There was no much to note at dinner time. Alex pondered which fast food they should call this time for delivery but was immediately shut by Maggie's coaxing into going out of the building and eating somewhere with real food. They sat at a local restaurant - just two blocks away. The menu was Italian - much to Maggie's delight. It took time for her to pick a meal - something Alex found odd. She only flipped a coin to choose among the pasta servings, noting that _'Once you've tasted pasta, you've tasted them all.'_

There it was, a spicy topic for the two women as they waited for food. Maggie ended up lecturing her about the basics of pasta cooking but Alex couldn't care about cooking pasta; Heck, she couldn't care about cooking in general. But she let Maggie speak because she was fascinated by how she tilted her head as her lips smiled and her eyes danced. They said that passion was what made a person to feel most alive. Pasta was Maggie's passion, and at some stabbing truth, _Maggie was Alex's._

Maggie was one of those people who could make a two-hour dinner date feel like ten. Not in a negative way, but in a way that made Alex wish there were more than twenty-four hours in a day. Maggie would say something about the drapes in the restaurant then laugh at a detergent commercial she remembered from nights ago. In a quick speed, Maggie could punch an annotation then switch to revisiting American history just because Hamilton was briefly mentioned in the seven o'clock news. Alex sat there, listening, staring, eating, smiling at the wonder of Maggie's thoughts.

"So, what does Maggie Sawyer do when she's not in Unit 1122C?" Alex warmed her hands into the pockets of her jeans as they strolled back to her place.

Maggie chuckled. "I have a part-time job, remember?"

"Yes. That, I know. It's just part-time, though. How about the rest of your hours? When you're not with me or at the firm? Also, where are you from? How are your parents doing? What else do you do?"

The evening was young and the people of National City was at a lively vibe except for Maggie who fell silent. Her gaze bowed and her thumb traced over her tightened lips.

Alex winced - disliking how she had made her feel uneasy. "Look, it's okay. You don't have to tell if you're not comfortable with-,"

"Mother's dead. Dad left before I could say my first word." Maggie interrupted with her gaze still on the tarmac as they walked.

Bug-eyed, Alex breathed nervously. "Like I said, if you're not comfort-,"

"I watch three hours worth of pasta videos or I lock myself in my room and sleep. There's no in between." Maggie finally smiled and turned to meet Alex's sight. "There's nothing much to tell, really. I'm boring."

Alex managed to lock her eyes onto hers amidst the dim lighting of the sidewalk. "I doubt that."

They reached the lobby and was overwhelmed by the strong warm bulbs that hyper-illuminated the walls and the floor. When the elevator landed on the eleventh floor, Alex cursed at the realization that her key was not in any of her pockets and was inside her room. Maggie was there, arms folded, then later came that thumb again running back and forth her lower lip - trying to hide a curve of laughter.

Alex rode down to the reception area to borrow a spare key. They stayed in for another hour until Alex voluntarily called the night off to let her creative mind find its game back. They didn't say their goodbyes. Instead, they hugged and told each other to _'sleep well.'_

Two hours after Maggie left, Alex found herself on the streets again, now on her way to Kara's apartment. She had not thought of it through, but she was already on her way. She knocked at the door that read 4A. She didn't need to - given Kara's vision, but she always had knocked on her door. The silence that followed gave Alex the impression that Kara did not want to speak with her. She knocked again. This time, it opened.

Kara smiled small, despite her anger and sentiments, she smiled. Not because she was happy to see her sister (she actually wasn't), but because she was Kara - the bright ray of sunshine who always tried to see the best in everyone. She let Alex inside and offered her a glass of water for courtesy.

"Hank might've mentioned the fact that you're leaving for Metropolis." Alex blurted out.

Kara shook her head in disappointment. "I was gonna tell you soon. I'm sorry that you had to hear it from somebody else."

"It's okay. I'm not mad or anything. I don't have the right to be."

Kara made a sound that was condescending enough to give Alex cold feet.

They fell silent. Alex tried to ask her about Catco and James to keep the conversation going, but Kara was not having the enthusiasm to open up.

"Why are you really here, Alex?"

The writer sighed. She fidgeted her trembling fingers. "I'm writing again."

Kara folded her arms. "Congratulations?"

"I'm trying to publish a book so I can pay you back in full."

Kara poured herself another glass of water. "We've heard that one before," she said in an almost cold whisper.

"I don't want you to leave. You're my only family, Kara."

"What do you want me to say here?" Kara faced her with tired eyes.

"You don't have to say anything. I just want you to know that I'm not giving up on us." Alex forced a comforting smile.

Kara sat with her on the couch. She swallowed nervously an sighed. "So what's it about? Your story?"

Alex couldn't help the grin that was showing on her face. "Can't tell you yet."

"Well, what _can_ you tell me?"

"I hired a stenographer. I say the words from my head and she jots it down. It's working. I'm seven chapters in."

Kara smiled back. "Tell me about this stenographer."


End file.
